It's a Sin
by Fatal Overdose
Summary: Jack's father becomes abusive after the death of his wife, and now he's caught in a downwards spiral that can only end in tragedy.


**Sorry! Really really really really sorry! I meant to upload stuff, I really did!**

**Like it says, this is the edited version. Please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think (be honest, I can take it). I'd really like to know where I screwed up, how they compare, so on and so forth. I wrote this over an extended period of time, so I probably use a few words more often than I should, and again, I'd REALLY LIKE TO KNOW WHEN I SCREW UP! Spare me the embarrassment of re-reading this and finding the mistakes myself, please?**

**Well, without further ado, another byproduct of my... well, I like to call it creativity, but my psychologist just says "Holysh*tI'llcallitwhateveryouwantjustpleaseplease pleaseletmego!" He really needs to stop swearing. And crying. It's starting to get on my nerves.**

_"Shhh... it's okay, he'll be back soon." She held the small boy close as he cried._

_They were in the lobby of the airport. With a quick kiss and an affectionate ruffle of the youngest Spicer's hair, the man picked up both of his suitcases and headed for the gates._

_"But what if he never comes back?" He'd asked her, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his gray jacket. Large red eyes looked up sadly._

_"He'll be here in a week, Jack, I promise!" And with that, the blond woman picked up her still crying son, allowing him to wrap his tiny arms around her neck._

**OOOOOOOOO**

"Say it." The man growled.

Three months. Three months since his mother had died, three months of physical and emotional abuse. Three months with his father.

Tears had his garish eyeliner running down his face."I am worthless. I am lower than dirt. I am a freak. No one will ever love me." His voice cracked on the word 'love'.The boy lay spread-eagle on the floor of his living room. His father had his boot planted firmly on the boy's spine as rough hands held his shoulders and head in place.

"You're damn right. You'd better stay in this house until I come back. It's a Sin to disobey your parents."

_One Misissippi. Two Misissippi._

Mr. Spicer pushed his son's head down once more before releasing his hold, a small show of dominance.

_Three Misissippi. Four Misissippi._

He left the room, the sound of heavy footsteps growing quieter as he neared the house's entryway.

_Five Misissippi. Six Misissippi. Seven Misissippi. Eight Misissippi. Nine Misissippi._

The front door opened and slammed closed again as his father left, presumably headed for the nearest bar.

_Ten Misissippi._

Jack finally exhaled and stood up, knowing the man wouldn't return for hours. He headed for the bathroom.

He took stock of himself in the mirror. A trail of blood ran down his face and onto his shirt, but the flow had (thankfully) stopped moments ago. He took a rag and ran it under the sink for a few seconds before scrubbing at the congealing fluid, along with his eyeliner. With a brief look of disgust, he stripped off his shirt and threw it in the garbage. Bloodstains were a bitch to get out, why bother?

The area around one of his eyes was already an angry red color, and by tomorrow he'd have bruises on his neck, shoulders, and back. He pulled back the mirror above the sink to reveal a variety of makeup and skincare products that his mother had sometimes used on special occasions, but were, for the most part, untouched.

He yelped and spun around at a sudden noise, but it was only the Shen Gong Wu alarm. What timing.

"Lotion, lotion, lotion, more lotion... Ah! Here it is!" He hastily applied the concealer, along with the liner. It didn't quite cover the mark, but it would have to do for now.

A remote he kept in his pocket activated his robots and opened the outside door that lead to the helipack was never very far away from him, a fact he was glad for as he activated it and went towards the newest Wu.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_"You aren't crying anymore?"_

_The seven year old shook his head no. He was in need of a haircut, the brightly colored strands needed to be constantly brushed back to keep them from falling into his eyes._

_"I brought you some dinner," she offered, holding out a plate of giant chocolate chip-filled cookies. It wasn't technically dinner, but hey, food was food, right? She herself frequently indulged in sweets, ice cream and pudding being favorites, not that you could tell from her figure. She was nearing thirty three, but barely looked a day over twenty five. She wore a small white apron around her slim waist, and her long yellow hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, which meant she had been doing housework up until a few minutes ago._

_His mother sat down next to him on the bed, which creaked lightly at the sudden extra weight, and put a comforting arm over his shoulders, setting the blue tray to the side._

_"What happens when people die?"_

_This wasn't exactly a normal question to hear from a child, but Jack had never been exactly normal, so Mrs. Spicer was only slightly surprised to hear the words coming from his mouth. "I don't think anybody know for sure, some say the person stops existing, some say they get reincarnated, some say people go to heaven."_

_He liked the last one best. "Good people go to heaven, right?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Nana was evil. Does that mean she's gonna go to hell?"_

_"Oh, I don't think so. She was evil, but she was also good, in a different sort of way. She did care about everyone, even though she didn't show it very often."_

_"Hey momma?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_There was a serious look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "...I wanna be like her when I grow up."_

**OOOOOOOOO**

A common misconception about Chase Young is that he has no emotions.

When he was a child, training to become a Xiaolin Dragon, he was taught to keep his feeling in check. Never allow them to make decisions for you. Decide based on your mind, not your heart.

You must control your emotions, not the other way around.

Anger and Pride had always been major flaws of his. It was because of these that he'd joined the Heylin side in the first place, and, feeling betrayed by Guan, the one he considered closest, he did what he had always done: sought power. Of course, this was not the first time his anger had gotten the better of him.

When he was ten, one of the children from the village below the temple had been bullying a friend of his. Dashi being, well, himself, refused to fight back, and came back to the temple that night sporting a black eye. The young warrior practically saw red when he heard what had happened. In a fit of anger, Chase had beaten the village boy within an inch of his life. That was a righteous fury, though, different from what had become the norm for him now.

This hatred for anyone who chose to hurt a person who would not, or could not defend themselves stubbornly refused to go away completely when he turned to evil. He still felt just a twinge of it whenever the Xiaolin Dragons, now full-fledged instead of just apprentices, combined their strengths to, for lack of a better term, beat the shit out of anyone who opposed their ideals.

They didn't seem to realize that their so-called 'enemy' was so much _weaker_ than they were, or if they did, the newest batch of monks certainly didn't care. They could be vicious and cruel when they chose to be. On one occasion years ago, the then apprentices had defeated Jack Spicer's robots, retrieved the Shen Gong Wu, then all four of them turned around and attacked him anyway. ***

The boy had disappeared for weeks after that, needing the time to recuperate. He had sprung back, however, and seemed to actually be improving.

But recently things had changed. Chase was unaware of what had happened, but it had to be severe to have this sort of effect on one so _unaffected_ by everything else. Certainly, he acted almost no different from prior to whatever incident had occurred three months ago, but every cocky statement, ridiculous evil laugh, everything about him that had been natural before was now so... fake, his expressions never quite reaching his eyes. The monks, of course, didn't notice.

Chase did, though. Even from a distance, he could see what the strain of all of this was doing to him. He looked as though he was barely holding himself together as he trudged onwards through the mud in search of whatever flimsy magical object had chosen to reveal itself this time.

Red hair, ungelled for once, drooped over blank-looking eyes, and the area around one of them was slowly turning a dark purple, although it looked as though he had tried to cover it with something. Bags had accumulated underneath his cerise orbs, almost, _almost_ hidden by the eyeliner he insisted on wearing. His ragged black jacket was caked with a layer of dirt and drying blood.

The last few months alone had added on years.

Ah, yes. Jack Spicer, Heylin wannabe, self proclaimed evil boy genius, and complete idiot. Chase _despised_ the wretched thing, but couldn't help but pity him. That would be the work of the annoying good side he'd never managed to fully extinguish. Ever since their first meeting, the boy had been a deadweight, a thorn in his side, completely unable to take care of himself, prisoner to his petty emotions, an annoying, sniveling, prideful coward.

In the teen's recent bout of depression, however, he had lost most of those traits. For reasons he could not grasp, this _bothered_ Chase, and the simple fact that Jack had any effect on him whatsoever only made him hate the boy more.

Whatever Shen Gong Wu the five youths were currently searching for was trivial, so Chase merely chose to observe the outcome, not interfere. He had originally come to see how Omi had green progressing as of late, but when the object was discovered, he found his eyes draw not to the bald yellow monk, but instead to the familiar bright red hair of Jack Spicer.

In a mere moment, most of the boy's robots were annihilated. Normally he would continue fighting, but he seemed to decide to quit while he was ahead, as he left without even attempting to engage in a showdown.

This... this was not normal.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_"Jack?" The woman knocked on the door, leaning her head against it while she listened for a response, which came in the form of a slight gasp. Apparently she'd startled him._

_"It's time for dinner."_

_"Give me a minute!" The words sounded strained._

_Concern growing, Mrs. Spicer pushed the door inwards, catching sight of the bloody sheets covering the bed. **"Jack!"** The woman rushed over to the boy, who held a needle and thread in one hand, which he was using to try to stitch up the injury._

_Messy stitching wound its way up the boy's leg, the source of the scarlet liquid being a disturbingly large gash dragging from just above his ankle all the way past his knee. The child was more pale than normal from sheer loss of blood, and he was trembling._

_"What happened?"_

_The boy, now sixteen, shook his head, then his dulling eyes rolled back and he fell sideways onto the mattress._

_First and foremost, she called for an ambulance. Then the bleeding needed to be stopped, or Jack would die. There was a pair of safety scissors on the desk, and she made a small cut in the fabric of the blanket, then tore the rest of the strip off, winding it around the wound. It was soaked through almost immediately._

_Disregarding the mess, she picked up her child and headed out front to wait for the people from the hospital to arrive._

_It wasn't fun. He was stuck in a boring white room for nearly a month while his leg healed, but his mother came to visit every day, for hours at a time. He never told anybody what had happened, though, after all, who would believe him?_

**OOOOOOOOO**

That had gone...better than expected, but worse than planned. He still had a few Jackbots, and since he hadn't made it to the Wu in time, almost no injuries. Just a couple of scrapes he'd gotten from some stupid tree that had been in his way.

Assuming his father wouldn't be back for some time, he walked right through the front door.

Big mistake.

The man was very drunk, and very angry. The moment he saw the albino, he lunged, pinning the boy against the wall.

"You dirty little whore," He whispered."out seeing your boyfriend, huh?" His face was mere inches from Jack's and his breath reeked of alcohol.

He resisted the urge to retch."I didn't-"

His father just shoved him away. "I don't want to hear it. Don't you know adultery is a Sin?" The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a metal glinted ominously in the artificial light.

Jack closed his eyes and waited for the pain to nothing happened, he cracked an eye open to see his father holding the weapon out to him.

"You have Sinned. You must be punished." He said.

Hesitantly, Jack took the knife."What am I supposed to-"

"Punish yourself."

"But I-"

_"YOU WANT ME TO DO IT, YOU FUCKING BITCH?_" the man roared."Now."

Choking on a sob, he drove the blade into his arm, biting his lip hard enough that it too bled. A river of red poured out of the new opening eagerly. Almost immediately, the darkness began to eat away at the corners of his vision. Leaving a rather disturbing trail, he managed to drag himself to the sanctuary that was his basement before he collapsed.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_Jack swallowed. His father had finally returned from one of his business trips. He had wanted to tell both of his parents together, but now... he wasn't so sure that he could._

_"I'm busy, Jack," his father said, obviously bored. "Just get on with it."_

_His mother nodded encouragingly. She had guessed this a while ago, but had been waiting for Jack to tell them on his own._

_This... this was unreal. He couldn't do this, there was no way! He took a shaky breath. There was no backing out now. He screwed his eyes shut. He could do this, it was fine, it would all work out, right? Before he could talk himself out of it again, he blurted out the words. "I'm gay!"_

_His parents didn't say anything, but the look of revulsion on his father's face spoke volumes._

_He escaped back to the safety of his room. Even on the third floor, he could here muffled shouts from below, mostly the deep voice of his father. Most likely, Mrs. Spicer was trying to calm him down, while her spouse grew more and more angered by the second._

_He had always been an intensely religious man, Jack knew that. That's part of what had made it so hard._

_He knew eventually his mother would talk him out of his rage, she was the only person who could. As long as she was there, everything would be fine._

**_OOOOOOOOO_**

Nearly a month had passed since that night, and Jack Spicer hadn't been to a showdown since. His left arm was littered with painful looking, barely healed injuries from all the times he had been forced to punish himself. He'd invented a medical robot of sorts that would clean, dress, and stitch up his wounds, and he hardly ever passed out anymore. He thought he must be a horrible person to have deserved this, but he was evil, after all.

Every time his father glared at him or raised his hand angrily, an eerily empty look would overcome him, and the boy would reach for the knife he kept with him at all knife would bite into his flesh until his father deigned it appropriate to stop, or Jack lay unconscious on the ground for the MedBot to collect.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_Jack had just gotten his master's degree in robotics, at seventeen. The genius title wasn't for fun. Well, it wasn't __**just**__ for fun, anyway._

_His parents were supposed to have met him, but neither of them had even shown up. He hadn't thought his father would, the man still regarded him angrily after he'd told him be was homosexual, but it hurt that his mother hadn't come. She __**always**__ came, no matter what._

_Home was a four hour walk from his current location, so he sat on the front steps long after all the others had gone home, clinging to the hope someone would come for him. He hadn't been allowed to bring his helipack with him, so he was really stuck._

_Bored out of his mind, he sat on the steps outside of the building where the graduation had been held, head in his hands, until he heard the noise of a car pulling up to the curb._

_He watched a slightly overweight police officer step out of the vehicle, looking at the youth with sympathy. "Jack Spicer?" the man said, "I have some bad news. Your mother was in an accident. I'm afraid... she didn't make it, son."_

_Jack's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. It was hard to tell in the dark, but that day, something inside of him broke._

**OOOOOOOOO**

This was becoming increasingly annoying. It had been four months since he had seen Spicer. The first was peaceful, no more interruptions, no more irritating wannabe evildoer sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

The second was not nearly as great. Every time someone came to the door of his citadel, there was an odd fluttery sensation at the thought that it might be the red headed genius, and one like lead in the pit of his stomach at the realization that it was not.

Finally, _finally,_ he caved. Waving his hand over the surface of the Eye Spy orb, the Dragon had it reveal what he wanted to see: Jack Spicer, present time.

It was all wrong. He should be asleep at this time, nearly five in the morning, but he was still in the basement, curled in on himself and rocking gently back and forth, looking so vulnerable, so... _not Jack_, that he nearly thought his magic device was malfunctioning.

_WRONG! WRONGWRONGWRONGWRONGWRONG!_ The dragon inside his head screeched.

Apparating to the entrance to the 'Evil Lair', Chase practically gagged on the stench of blood surrounding the room. His heightened senses picked up on what Jack was saying even from where he stood.

"I am worthless. I am lower than dirt. I am a freak. No one will ever love me. I am worthless. I am lower than dirt. I am a freak. No one will ever love me." He intoned, repeating the same thing over and over like a mantra, rocking back and forth on his heels.

_"Spicer..."_ Chase was not what he had expected. He half reached towards the albino, but just watched for a minute.

Something had happened in his absence, and it had left the boy a shell of his former self. Gone was the odd smirk, the need to make himself known, the failed scheming. His once bright red eyes focused on nothing, and the genius had yet to notice the dragon's presence. Jack had never truly been evil, he was far too innocent, if boisterous with an ego relatively the size of a planet.

Something needed to be done. He assumed no one would ever love him? He would need to reconsider. Crossing the distance between the two in a few short steps, he gently grabbed the boy's wrists, pulling Jack closer to him. Ignoring the feeble struggling he planted a chaste kiss on his mouth.

In a sudden feat of strength he didn't have, he yanked himself away from Chase, scrambling backwards into a corner.

Silently, he pulled the switchblade from somewhere in his black jacket. He took of the coat then, revealing white gauze wrapped tightly around his upper arm. Red had soaked through most of the bandages already, which explained the smell. "I have Sinned. I must be punished." Before Chase could stop him, he drove the blade into the soft flesh and yanked it out, splattering blood horrifyingly across the wall. Another trail of the crimson liquid made its way down the side of his face as he bit back a scream, allowing only a heart-wrenching whimpering sound to escape the boy's lips.

The knife clattered noisily to the floor. Jack reached for it, but his hand was restrained by another.

"I am sorry, Spicer." He muttered. He struck a nerve cluster in the boy's neck with his hand. Jack stiffened, then went limp and fell forward into Chase's arms. Who dared to afflict such suffering on the genius? He belonged to _Chase _now, dammit! Jack had clearly been broken.

He planned to do something about this, but first, the unconscious boy had to be dealt with.

...

He had left Jack in the capable hands of his warriors, several of whom had transformed back into humans and were currently tending to his wounds, at least the physical ones. They were skilled in both healing and magic, so the youth would merely be left with a few scars, all of which would fade eventually.

It was the mental wounds he was worried about.

Using his Eye Spy Orb, Chase had watched the last few months of Jack's life; the abuse, the torment, all leading up to mental collapse. That someone would do this to their own offspring quite frankly sickened the evil warlord, and the more bestial portion of his mind cried out for vengeance.

For blood.

Chase was more than happy to oblige.

He again returned to the basement, pausing only to snarl at the drying pool of blood before he stole upstairs. The smell of cheep beer lead him right to the boy's father, who was, of course, piss drunk, snoring in a pink armchair and surrounded by empty bottles and crushed cans.

Regardless of the reason, what the man had done was unforgivable. And to so casually disregard it!? How dare this pathetic mortal damage what was his!?

He contained his rage. Barely.

"Hello, Mr. Spicer," he said coolly, voice betraying none of his anger.

With a snort, the drunkard woke up, spilling the contents of the bottle he held onto the floor.

"Eh? Whaddyou want?" The man slurred, staggering towards Chase in what he obviously though was a threatening manner.

"I am here to speak to you about your son." He managed to say, only just keeping the growl out of his words. "You are not to go near him again, understand?"

At this point, Mr. Spicer was just a few inches from his face, the harsh scent of alcohol even worse up close. "You can't tell me what to do! It's a Sin to-"

That was the last straw. Chase release his human form, turning into a very large, very angry dragon in the middle of the living room. _"Don't you know, Mr. Spicer?"_ He hissed, malice glinting in his golden eyes. _"It's a Sin to taint an angel."_

Those were the last words Jack's father heard before his head was ripped clean off his body.

Chase spat out the appendage, shrinking back into his normal appearance and wiping blood off of his mouth. Pausing only to sneer at the crumpled form, he left the man there to rot. It was nothing less than he deserved.

...

A pathetic whimpering noise sounded from directly next to him. The dragon moved to put his arms around the redheaded genius until the boy was pressed against him, slowly enough that he would awaken on his own.

Jack's arm twitched lightly, and with nothing louder than a gasp he rejoined the waking world, shaking slightly, unable to ward off the memories still haunting his sleep so many years after the incident. He automatically latched on to the nearest thing he could, clinging to Chase's nightshirt desperately.

The mental scars refused to heal, even when the physical ones had long since disappeared.

"You aren't weak, Jack." He said in a low, soft voice none but his lover was ever to hear. "Memories take time to disappear; I would expect no more from you."

The only answer he received was Jack burrowing closer to him. Everything that had happened then... Jack had all but disappeared from the world since. He never went outside, never interacted with anyone other than the dragon and his warriors. Both of them felt utterly powerless, Jack forced to recall his father's beatings night after night, and Chase unable to put a stop to them.

It was so frustrating having to wait! Even mental wounds would heal with time, which they had plenty of now that Jack was unable to die, but how long would it take for Jack to stop flinching at the slightest touch? How much time would need to pass for the nightmares to vanish?

If Chase was being honest, it hurt to see him like that, feeling small and pathetic and worthless, all the things the dragon had called him prior to what had happened, and doubtlessly Jack wasn't much happier about the situation.

Time moved far to slow, he decided as he attempted to fall back asleep, still curled protectively around his treasure. But they would see it through to the end.

*****: I dunno why I did three stars, but whatever. This actually happened in the show! In Time after Time part 1, they ganged up on Jack and stole his clothes when they were competing for the position of Shoku Warrior. It pissed me off! I lost most of my respect for them at that point. Grrr... I really hate it when people do shit like that.**

**This turned out reeeeeaaaaally long... and it's still crap, sorry...**


End file.
